


Disintegration

by heckmate



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 07:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11249013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heckmate/pseuds/heckmate
Summary: Faced with starvation, Maxwell wanders into a cave in desperate search of carrots. While in the cave, Maxwell gets caught in an earthquake and is critically injured. During the three grueling days before his rescue, Maxwell must survive, despite barely clinging on to life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: this work will have multiple chapters.

Maxwell glowered at the pigs guarding the lush berry bushes, the fruit dangling ripe and untouched.

The tantalization of the berries sent another rough wave of hunger through Maxwell's stomach. He gripped the fabric of his shirt, realizing how much weight he had lost as a good portion of the fabric balled up in his fist.

Any attempts at distracting the guardian pigs had been futile. Unlike their regular counterparts, they did not react to food placed on the ground, even ignoring the spider meat that their other docile pigs so eagerly consumed. But these pigs existed for one purpose, and that sole purpose was protecting the offerings to their king. No amount of coaxing was going to distract them from their duty. They were metaphorically tethered to this location.

Maxwell sighed, returning to his pitiful excuse of a camp, mind buzzing with the events of last month. It seemed like years since the argument broke out, since surviving on his own had been so hard on him. It was a pity. He and the other survivors had been getting along just fine, but when the fight that broke out— Maxwell, mind buzzing with fatigue and starvation, could not remember what the argument was about— became too heated, their survival group had been blown asunder.

The disgruntled magician released the spear he was holding, and it landed on the ground with a horrible clatter. Once again, Maxwell did not have the courage to try and fight off the pigs surrounding the berry bushes. It really did not matter, anyway, as his health was more than half drained. Building a tent and sleeping to recover would have been suicide, seeing as he had no food. It seemed hopeless.

As the hours turned into days and the days turned into weeks, Maxwell found his mind clogged by the persistent hunger. He was losing touch with reality. He could _feel_ it. Feel the way his brain didn't quite process the light correctly. Feel the way his mouth would water as he stared at a tuft of grass, because even that looked tempting now. Feel the way his mind and stomach seemed to morph into one. His eyes now had one purpose— to find food. And every single day that those eyes could not find any was another day that Maxwell found his sanity plummeting.

Perhaps it was this debilitating drain of mental health that led Maxwell to make this next dangerous decision. If he didn't find food, he realized, he would die within the next day. Something had to be done. He couldn't keep living off of one or two rotting berries and some ice each day. It was killing him.

His starving eyes now wandered over to the entrance of the cave, which had been mined down by one of the other survivors before the schism. Maxwell, having designed this place, knew the dangers of the cave, and going in there with his current lack of strength and sanity was a terrible idea. But what Maxwell also knew was that, deep in the caves, lived the bunnymen. And near the bunnymen villages there were farms of fresh, untouched carrots, which the rabbits never picked.

The prospect of finding food was all that mattered.

Grabbing grass and twigs for torches, Maxwell made his way towards the cave. He didn't need to brace himself— all he wanted was food. Whatever other problems that arose could be dealt with on a full stomach. And right now, that was all that mattered.


	2. Chapter 2

The cave's air was crisp, but somehow it was warmer than the world above. Even though the cavern trapped humidity, the wind did not blow. The lack of stinging ice crystals against Maxwell's face made thinking clearly slightly easier. Not exactly possible in full, but more doable.

The cave was pretty serene, all things considered. Distant dripping was heard in the distance, echoing against the vast stone walls. Icicles hung from the stalactites on the ceiling and caught the small amount of light shining in. If there were spiders nearby, Maxwell didn't hear their hissing. Things seemed almost optimistic.

Maxwell equipped a torch and made his way forward.

Thankfully, Maxwell only had to use up about two torches before he came to a clearing. The clearing was surrounded by light flowers, which eliminated the need for a torch.

Even better— standing tall and prominently were numerous, carrot shaped structures. Rabbit hutches! Maxwell had reached his destination!

Instantly, Maxwell ran over, all of his missing energy seemingly back. He sunk to his knees, uprooting every single carrot he could find. Yes! He would feast! Now, he could finally be able to feed himself enough to think of a from this point on!

With shivering hands, Maxwell built a campfire, and cooked up five of the carrots he had found. He devoured them hungrily, instantly feeling the sustenance fuel him. He began to feel much better in a short amount of time. His head felt clearer, and he found that his mind was able to think of other things and not dwell so much on the hunger that had consumed him moments ago.

Maxwell counted the carrots he had found. _Twenty_. Twenty carrots. If Maxwell rationed it out carefully, this was enough food for about four or five days. That, along with any berries he could find, would keep him alive long enough for him to heal up and find enough food to keep him alive until he could heal himself up. Then, he could kill some spiders and make some meatballs with monster meat and ice.

Maxwell was interrupted from his thoughts as the gave filled with a deep rumbling sound. He gasped, almost thrown off balance by the violent shaking that followed sound.

Not long after the shaking started, pieces of the roof began falling around Maxwell, landing on the ground with a sharp crack not too far from the man's feet.

There was only seconds now to plan a course of action. Maxwell could barely move; it seemed that whatever move he made had an opposite action to it, keeping him glued in place. In addition, he could barely see, as the shaking around him blurred everything around him. The violent vibrations caused him to feel sick, and his now-full stomach clenched, then emptied a second later as Maxwell doubled over. But that was the least of his concerns right now, as rocks continued to fall from the cave's roof.

Maxwell was hit several times in the head by the plummeting debris, and it didn't take long for him to feel warm blood begin to dribble down the sides of his face and head. In a desperate attempt to save his skull from fracturing, he threw his arms up to guard his head from the rubble. He felt the sharp rocks slicing up the top of his forearms, and he couldn't help but let out a scream as the pain intensified with each slice. He assumed a crouching position, but that only left his back open for attack— he had the wind knocked out of him several times.

As he gasped for breath, Maxwell tried to crawl away, but this was futile. Now that his arms were preoccupied with trying to drag him away to safety, his head was re-exposed, and the assault on it continued. but through it all, Maxwell was determined not too lose consciousness. Not yet, anyway. He had to make sure he was safe before he could allow himself that luxury.

The worst of the pain, though, is when a piece of flint fell and found its home deep in Maxwell's shoulder. The man screamed again, throat now raw from the crying and vomiting and calls for help. His hand instantly flew to it, grabbing it and tearing it out of his skin and muscle with a sickening crackle. Blood oozed from the wound, soaking his gloved hand causing his vision to become speckled.

That was it. Maxwell's body couldn't take it anymore. The pain was too great. The fear was too great. The threat of imminent death was too great. Maxwell knew he probably wasn't going to make it.

Giving up all control, he collapsed on the ground, letting the encroaching darkness consume him.

Within seconds, he was out.


End file.
